


Care For Me

by ChesMaster



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Cute Kids, Dentophobia, Fear, Fluff, Friendship, Gender-Neutral Flower Kid and Florist, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Habiticians Interacting!, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Imaginary Friends, LGBTQ Themes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spoilers, Teeth, duh - Freeform, selective mutism, y'all know this game gets spoopy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-06-09 21:56:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19484815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChesMaster/pseuds/ChesMaster
Summary: A garden takes a lot of hard work to keep bright and happy. The flowers may be happy one day, but sad the next.But the Flower Child is always there to care for them.





	1. Making Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all. This game is awesome and I love it and my way of expressing that is to write a fan fic based on my experiences and headcannons for this game. This takes place throughout the later half of the game when the roof is unlocked, with little twists to how some puzzles are solved to include more interactions between these nutty characters. Mostly it's just going to be the Habiticians interacting with each other and this one kid fixing everyone's problems despite having some problems of their own.
> 
> Updates will be slow as I have a life and am currently working on another huge fic that is taking up my life and this is a way to take a break from that one. Please let me know if I left out an important tag, which will be updated as I post each chapter! I hope you like this little mess and that it makes you Smile For Me : - ) 
> 
> (see what I did there?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making friends isn't easy. It can be downright painful! Physically AND mentally! But it's totally worth it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, full disclosure, I have NO idea what Tim Tam's pronouns are, so I went with "they/them." That's what I assumed at least when I played the game, but I don't have confirmation because everyone calls Tim Tam by name or "beast-child" or "that one". Feel free to correct me if you know, I will change it.

**Good mowrning! Time for anther brite happy day!**

**Nothing is wrong at all!**

**So show the whole-wide-world ur big smile! Go on!**

**Smile for me.**

“Okay, I’m gonna count to three,” Nat said to you. “On three, you say, ‘No.’ One. Two. Three!”

You shook your head. The ancient thirteen year old sighed.

“C’mon, man, you gotta communicate at some point,” Nat urged. “You know, with words. Aren’t you tired of only nodding and shaking your head?”

You nodded your head.

“So say something!” Nat cried. “It could be anything you want. Even something dumb like, ‘I love you lots, dad’…”

Trencil Varnnia, Nat’s dad, smiled happily from his shadowy corner. Being a vampire, he didn’t like the sun, so he stayed there in the corner where it couldn’t get him. He had been sad that Nat hadn’t said, “I love you” to him for a year. You were able to get her to express her love for him to you and communicate her words to him. Nat realized that it mattered to him to say it more often, but being thirteen made that difficult somehow. She had to say it indirectly, like she just did know. You didn’t understand it, but Trencil didn’t seem to mind.

“You could also say, ‘I love you, too, Nat,’” Trencil suggested. “Or something like that…”

“Yeah, you could if you were lame,” Nat grumbled.

A warm glow spread inside your chest. You found their relationship sweet, if not strange.

But you didn’t smile. You never smiled, even if you were happy. You also started to wish you had that kind of relationship too…

Your eyelids started to get heavy and you finally realized how dark it was getting. You ran away without an explanation and went up the flight of stairs leading to the apartments. Everyone knew curfew for you was earlier than everyone else, even though you weren’t the youngest. It was embarrassing forced to go to sleep earlier than all the adults, big kids, and little kids, but there was nothing you could do about it. If you tried to stay up after curfew, you’d just be captured by one of the paper contraptions and placed in your room, forced to watch a scary video from Doctor Habit, scolding you for defying him.

And that’s exactly what happened. Your talkative bed was silent as you were plopped down onto it in the dark room. The door to your room was shut and locked, trapping you in darkness. You shook, scared of the pitch dark and the eerie silence.

Even though you knew it was coming, you still jumped when the TV on the wall suddenly turned on, casting its light over you. You weren’t comforted by the light, however. Not when you were an insomniac and a bad child that needed a bedtime story to go to sleep.

The music that played in the intro stopped abruptly and the video showed a dark street in the dead of night. You almost didn’t read the yellow letters of the Doctor as your tummy filled with dread.

**Silly little muffin! You’re’ supposed to be in ur room by curfew.**

**Little children have to go beddie-bye when their superiors tell them.**

You tried. You really tried to get to bed, but you lost track of time. You didn’t mean to…

**Why do you keep defying me? Don’t you want to sleep?**

**If you sleep, you’ll hav lots-and-lots of energy to smile! LIke everyone else you cheered-up!**

**Don’t you want to smile like them?**

You shook your head, even though no one could hear or see you.

You hoped no one could.

**This place is familiar.**

It was talking about the street the video was showing. You shivered, scared because the words were right.

**Behave your self.**

That’s when the video suddenly ended, making you imagine what that could have meant.

You slept until the afternoon because you stayed up late. You were too scared to sleep and you had a nightmare.

You stayed in your room for a bit, looking after your flower that Millie gave you. It hadn’t even begun to look like blooming. Its purple bud that looked like lips remained closed.

It made you sad. You loved to care for flowers so that they’ll open up to show their beauty to the world. But this one wasn’t blooming. You felt like it was your fault, even though you were trying to do everything you were supposed to.

You were always called, “Flower Kid.” The florist’s child. You knew all about flowers: their names, how to care for them, how to keep them happy and healthy. If _you_ couldn’t make a flower happy, then did that mean you were really bad and not good like everyone else said?

Did that mean Doctor Habit was right?

You gently patted your flower encouragingly and left your room, the TV still showing the same message it usually showed. You waved bye to your talking bed and left your room.

“Hit it!” Putunia screamed in your ear as you tried to get a high score on the punching game.

Thump. Punching the cardboard rotten teeth felt nice. Thump, thump.

“Pretend every teeth is the green menace’s face!”

It felt _really_ nice. Thump, thump.

“Yeah! Flower Power!” Putunia cheered as you were on a roll, punching like a pro.

“Wow!! You got a whoppin’ 29 points!” the paper contraption cried. You had to punch a huge cardboard tooth over and over before you got your prize. But you just punched your frustrations away like your therapist told you do (although she said to do it to a pillow) and broke the tooth to splinters.

By the end of it, you were gasping and sweaty, having exhausted yourself. You felt better, though. Happier, maybe? Putunia nodded in approval.

“You are ready to face the green menace,” she told you.

You stopped feeling better. But you got an air horn. You didn’t know what that was and neither did your friend. You pressed down on the top of it.

HOONK.

You gasped at the piercing wail the air horn made and Putunia screamed. You dropped it like it was burning you, and you and Putunia ran to the other side of the carnival away from the air horn.

“It’s evil,” Putunia determined. “We have to destroy it.”

“let’s burn it,” Tim Tam suggested. When did they get here?

Regardless, you threw the air horn in the tire fire in the back of the carnival. You felt better again. You liked fire and watching the flames dance and crackle with your friends made your heart warm.

“sweet,” Tim Tam said simply. They looked satisfied. But not happy. No matter what you did, they never cheered up. Mostly because there wasn’t a specific problem that was troubling them. They were a tough flower to crack, but that was okay. Maybe just being friends would eventually make them happy.

Putunia glared at Tim Tam suspiciously. She didn’t like the strange child. While they both had a similar affinity for disruption and violence, their goals were different. Putunia fought for justice and Tim Tam fought for “evil,” as the small hero-in-training put it.

“let’s burn more things,” Tim Tam turned and walked off without waiting for the agreement of the group.

Putunia scrunched her little nose up at this suggestion. “Never! Youse a bad guy! And we hurt bad guys like the green menace!”

Tim Tam stared at the smaller girl. They opened their mouth and said, “let’s burn the green menace’s things.”

Putunia gasped. She took your hand and pulled you a foot away to confer with you.

“I do not trust this one,” she confided. “But our efforts against the green menace aren’t working! He hides away in his lair and never comes out. But maybe if we make a huge attack against him with the guide of an enemy of his order and structure, we can get his attention and launch our attack! Understand, private?”

You nodded. Tim Tam always caused trouble, running around stealing things. Doctor Habit wouldn’t like _three_ Tim Tams running around and making a mess. He couldn’t wait until nighttime to make you watch a video or anything, either. He’d have to come out of his office and stop you.

He’d have to talk to you.

“Then we are agreed!” Putunia announced, turning to Tim Tam. “We will make an alliance with you, evil one. But only until our battle with the green menace is over! Got it?”

“‘kay,” Tim Tam replied blankly, turning to walk off.

“…Weirdo,” Putunia stated. But she followed them and you did too.

The rest of the day was spent burning things you found around the Habitat. A lot of the things burned were the posters and flyers on the walls. You had wanted to do other things to help the other Habiticians, but Tim Tam was very persuasive and could convince you to do all sorts of things. So you sort of forgot your plan to lure Doctor Habit out of his lair.

“hide this,” Tim Tam ordered you when Putunia wasn’t looking, handing cigarettes and lipstick to you. You did as you were asked, hiding them in the bathroom in the lounge because no one went there because it was gross and the janitor wasn’t…janitoring.

“write a message of rebellion on the walls,” Tim Tam handed you a brush they probably stole from Dallas. You hesitated, remembering how you were scolded for doing something similar as a small child.

When you didn’t move, Tim Tam stared at you with huge, dark pupils like the abyss that pierced into your soul. You wished they would stop peer pressuring you with silence.

“ANARCHY!” Putunia screamed, no so much writing a message as scribbling on the walls. “Try and stop me now, bad guys!”

Putunia then started cackling. You blinked, never seeing this side of your friend before.

But it inspired you. This was for a good cause. This was the only way to make Doctor Habit come out. So you had to do the best you could. For the Habiticians’ sake.

 _Flowerz rule,_ you wrote. _Habitat droolz!_

Your two friends were awestruck at your provocative message. You knew it was the use of “z” instead of “s.” Nat told you that “z” made everything look cooler.

“cool,” Tim Tam nodded once.

“Excellent work, private!” Putunia praised you.

“Pfft,” Millie, who was playing with her golf club nearby, scoffed. “That’s so lame. Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking, ‘Waaahhh, if she thinks it’s lame, why doesn’t she write something cooler?’ Well, I don’t know anything cooler! I’m like 9. I just know lame things when I see them! And you’re definitely on the list, flower freak!”

Tim Tam took out your pocket mirror, which you absolutely did not give permission for them to borrow, from their own pocket and held it up to Millie. She glared at her own reflection.

“is this ‘lame’?” Tim Tam asked.

Millie started hitting golf balls with her club at their head. Putunia let out a mighty battle cry and went to Millie’s side and tried to punch the balls to a retaliating Tim Tam. Where did they get a baseball bat?

When Tim Tam started hitting the balls back at the three of you with their bat, the chaos truly started. The sound of breaking glass and balls thudding against objects and people flooded your ears, Putunia’s and Millie’s battle cries deafening you. Trencil and Gillis, the bouncer of the lounge, ran toward the three of you to break you all up. When that didn’t work, Ronbo, reluctantly lumbered over to help.

Millie, as scared of clowns as Ronbo was scared of her, started freaking out and waving her club around viciously toward the large clown. Putunia, always the brave hero, rushed forward to help her friend, despite not having her punching glove anymore. You pulled her away, scared for her safety. Even if Millie liked Putunia, the out-of-control golf club shared no alliances.

You had thought Doctor Habit would come down from his tower himself to scold you for the rough-housing and wanton property damage. But instead, the usually friendly, if not slightly off-putting, paper carnival workers rapidly approached you and snatched Millie’s club out of her hands. Putunia tried to hit them, knowing they were “one of the green menace’s minions,” and shouted, “The final battle has begun!” But they were immune to her and even your punches.

The three of you scattered to the winds, knowing you stood no chance. You knew that you wanted to get in trouble, but now that the time had come, you lost your nerve and ran as fast as you could.

But you were in the Habitat. There wasn’t anywhere you could hide. Although, maybe trying to hide in your room wasn’t the best idea…

You, Millie, and Putunia were captured and taken back into the Courtyard where the fight started. You were forced to sit in the corner with the two of them underneath a sign tacked to the wall above that read, “Bad Kidzz Corner.” The use of the two z’s really hurt because it meant Doctor Habit saw your message and made the effort to make fun of you for it, yet he still refused to come down in person.

Millie huffed. “This is un-freaking-believable…”

“We lost,” Putunia stated sadly. “I’m sorry, private. It was my fault, wasn’t it?”

You shook your head. You were the one that fled like a coward! Putunia was so brave and violent and bloodthirsty! You admired her spirit and she gave you strength to face up to the evil Doctor Habit. You would have told her this, but you didn’t. You just shook your head more.

Luckily, Millie was there to validate the young hero. “Putunia, you’re the only one around here who _gets_ it. No one takes me seriously because I’m only like 11 and adults are stupid and like, ‘Ehhh, you’re just a dumb kid, so why should we listen to you about anything?’ That’s why my motto is, ‘You’re just a dumb adult, so why should I _not_ hit you with a golf ball so you cry?’”

Putunia’s face brightened and the smile you worked so hard to give to her returned. You were so relieved.

“Yeah!” she cried, newly inspired. “We can’t let the baddies defeat us! We’ll try again ‘til we win, okay, private?”

You nodded. Doctor Habit couldn’t hide up in his tower forever. One day, he’d have to come out and face you!

“Thanks, Millie!” Putunia smiled at the older-or-maybe-actually-younger girl. “You’re the best!”

Millie smirked cockily. “Heh. I know, I’m awesome…”

You sat quietly as Millie and Putunia talked about different types of golf clubs and the proper stance to get the hardest hit. It was a little hard for Millie to show the two of you since the paper people were adamant about you sitting down, but she did her best. Eventually, you and Putunia played Tic-Tac-Toe – wait, no, it was “strategy training” – on the floor while Millie lay on her back to take a nap.

“Man, what the got damn heck is up with that freak?” Millie growled as she suddenly sat up, looking directly up toward the ceiling. You followed her gaze and looked up at the skylight far above.

A tiny purple figure was lying face down on the skylight, their face smushed against the glass and no doubt fogging it up with their breath as they stared down wide-eyed and unblinking down directly at the three of you.

“QUIT STARIN’ AT US!” Millie screamed at Tim Tam and also in your ear. “GOT NOTHIN” BETTER TO DO? WHO’S LAME NOW, YA CREEP?!”

Tim Tam either didn’t hear or chose not to respond in the slightest and stayed exactly where they were. You shivered, knowing there was a pair of eyes staring right at the top of your head now.

“Man, this is all Tim Tam’s fault,” Millie pouted, lying back down. “You guys saw it. They were asking to get smashed with a golf ball. Right, flower freak?”

“We gots to be careful of that one,” Putunia told you seriously. “Our alliance is broken and we’re enemies again. They should not be trusted. Understand, Flower Power?”

You were confused. While Tim Tam was a little strange and creepy and did bad things, they were very similar to Millie and Putunia. They hated authority, they loved violence, and they were all nice once you got to know them.

You remembered when you would arrange flowers into a bouquet, you’d pick flowers that were similar enough to complement one another, but different enough to not be boring. Why did these similar, yet different flowers not like each other?

So you shook your head. That only made Millie and Putunia confused and they dismissed your shake of the head. You looked up at Tim Tam on the skylight, but they were gone.

Doctor Habit had a video waiting for you when you were sent to bed that night. The scary puppet talked about how the Habiticians should be sad and not force themselves to be happy too soon. You didn’t like the puppet. You didn’t like what he was saying.

 **“From my window, I sawed sum naughty children making a mess to-day!”** the green puppet flapped its mouth. **“That’s no good! The Habitat is ur home! You should bee nice to ur home!** **: - )”**

You hugged your knees to your chest, feeling guilty. While it was for a good cause, the Florist told you to behave while you were at the Habitat. Being late for bed time was one thing, but purposefully misbehaving was another. They’ll be so mad when they find out…

 **“There’’ss no punching and hiting allowed here!”** the puppet continued. **“Someone could get real hurt-ed…”**

There was a long pause as the puppet stared into the camera and at you. Your heart was in your throat as the silence dragged on. Did the video freeze?

 **“So to keep evryboddy habby and safe,”** the puppet suddenly started talking again, **“I’ve made some changes!”**

You didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit.

But there was nothing you could do about it now. All you could do is sleep and find out tomorrow…

The next day, you couldn’t find Millie.

You started to panic, remembering what the puppet had said. But when you checked the Lounge, Tiff, the kind singer, beckoned you to her.

“Little flower,” Tiff said in a hushed whisper. “I think there’s someone that could use your help…”

She pointed to the window that led to the cavernous area that may be a boiler room? You were never sure. Anyway, you went closer to the window and heard the sound of someone crying.

You practically sprinted to the poor person that was weeping all by themselves in a dark lonely place. Was it Trevor? Was Trencil mean to him when he tried to out him as a vampire? Or was the loneliness getting to Wallus, the man that lived in a hole in the wall?

It turned out it was neither. It was Millie, crying alone in a corner. You stood there in shock, never imagining that Millie would ever cry, especially after you cheered her up when you helped her hit Ronbo with a golf ball.

You approached. She glared at you, tears rolling down her blue cheeks.

“Get lost, idiot,” she said, but none of her usual ferocity was in her tone.

You shook your head. Even if she was mean and called you a freak and liked to hurt innocent clowns and people that insulted her, she was your friend. You sat down next to her.

“Bet you want me to tell you what’s wrong,” Millie grumbled. You nodded. “You really wanna know what happened? My golf club got stolen! It was my only one! But noooo, it was, ‘unsafe’ for me to have it. Oh, yeah, that’s the whole point! I’m like 7! How else am I going to protect myself from freaks and clowns and stuff? I can’t just beat them up with my fists like Putunia or you!”

She wiped her eyes with her hand. You checked your bouquet for a napkin to wipe her tears but all you had was a crumpled up piece of paper that came from the paper person that gave you the evil air horn. Millie decrumpled it a bit and dried her face with it. Handing it back to you, you noticed some writing on it. But you had to help Millie before you could read what it said.

You took out your punching glove and held it out to Millie. She didn’t feel safe because she thought she couldn’t defend herself with fists alone. You felt that way too until Putunia gave you this glove. You slept much better once you had it with you to punch any shadows or boogeymen or whatever roamed the dark halls of the Habitat. Also, the nightmares weren’t as bad after you dreamed of punching all the scary things in the world with your glove.

But for Millie’s smile, you’d give the glove to her.

“No thanks,” Millie turned away and scowled at the ground. “I don’t want your gross, sweaty glove…”

You were relieved but also sad because you didn’t know how to get Millie’s club back. Doctor Habit probably took it away and seeing him was difficult enough.

“Golf’s the only thing I’m really good at,” Millie mumbled. “Mom taught me everything she knew before she…gave me her club and…stop teachin’ me golf…”

You frowned slightly. Why did her mom stop teaching her? Was Millie so good that her mom couldn’t teach her anything more? Did they get in a fight?

Why was she crying again?

You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t talk to her as she cried softly over the loss of her club. You had to leave her and search the Habitat for some way to cheer Millie up.

Oh! Maybe you could make Millie a new club! It wouldn’t be as special and good as the original, but you could try, right?

You tried the tree in the carnival to find a long branch to use. You started to climb the tree to snap one off.

Unfortunately, you’re bad at climbing and you fell and scrapped your palms. You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying. It really, really hurt-

Something hit your head and you fell over and passed out. When you woke up, Tim Tam was standing over your body.

“hey,” they greeted simply. “sorry. thought you could catch it.”

Catch…?

Tim Tam held a golf club out to you. Your eyes were wide with shock. Where the heck did Tim Tam get that?! The Doctor took it away, how did they manage to get it back?!

Actually, it might be better to not question it. All you needed to know was that Tim Tam was a force to be reckoned with…

“i stole this. return it for me,” Tim Tam ordered. “the other stuff, too. no more evidence.”

Return? But…why? Why did Tim Tam get Millie’s club back after what happened yesterday? Didn’t they not like each other? Did they know how upset Millie was after losing it so they stole it back out of the kindness of their heart? Did they know you and Millie were friends and wanted to make you happy by helping her? Did they want to get back at Doctor Habit?

Well, whatever the reason was, you got Millie’s club back! You ran back to her and the smile she had on her face warmed your heart. After returning the lipstick and the cigarettes to their rightful owners, you and her spent the rest of the day shooting golf clubs in the pipes.

“I’m the best at this,” Millie smiled smugly after a successful shot. “Bet you and everyone are like, ‘Weeeh, if you love your club so much why don’t you marry it?’ Well, I would, but I can’t! I’m like 13! Why would I want to marry some dumb weirdo when I can be with a blunt instrument for the rest of my life?”

You didn’t know how to answer that with a nod or a shake of the head so you just continued to move the pipes for Millie.

“Hey,” Millie grunted grumpily as you started to head off to bed. “Thanks, Flower Kid…”

Your heart soared. She had never called you that before. She really was your friend!

“Quit starin’ at me, freak!” Mille shouted, raising up her club. “Just because I lost it once, doesn’t mean I will again. I’m always gonna be ready to knock your block off, pansy! What? It’s a flower pun! Get it?”

You quickly left to get to bed. You went into your room and found Tim Tam standing in the middle of it, staring at the door, waiting for your return. You approached them, not in the least freaked out.

“thanks,” Tim Tam said. “reward.”

They handed you a crumpled piece of paper. And they smiled a little at you.

The smile was the best reward.

“patsy,” you heard Tim Tam say as they left the room.

Patsy? What did that mean? Was that a type of flower? Oh, well. It probably didn’t mean anything much…

**Will u smile for me?**

**Ur friendse are smiley and habby. Y can’’t you smile two?**

**I smile for u if youse smiles for meb : - )**

**…**

**Why are you always so sad, child?**


	2. The Plight of an Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art can be hard. Not everyone will be happy with what the artist made, even if the artist is. But if only one person likes it, is that enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey, I'm back! Thanks to those who took interest in this fic and who came back for more! Hope you all enjoy this chapter and have a habby day : - )

**Wakey wakey eggs ‘n bakey!**

**Here’s a Habby Habbitatty tippy for u!**

**Whenevber a freind does something amaze-ing and things are going well 4 themb, instead of saying how great they r or how habby you are for them, tell them they shouldnn’t rub there success in your face while things ar baddie-bad for u.**

**U help them all the time when their sad. So they should help you when ur sad! They don’t need u when their smileying!**

**They will bee so greatful that you reminded them how 2 be a good friend!**

**Have a good day! : - )**

You were about to unfold your pieces of paper that you got from Carla (apparently that was the name of all the paper people at the carnival, but you had never heard them introduce themselves as Carla, yet you heard some people call them that, so you decided to call them Carla too) and Tim Tam, but then Mirphy came into your room. She was hunched over so she could fit through the doorway. Mirphy was very tall.

“Quick!” she cried. “I need you right this second!”

You jumped up, your cowboy bed gone quiet. It always went quiet whenever other people showed up. It whispered encouragement in your ear with its deep, soothing voice as you fell asleep. It was nice to hear and it helped you sleep on the darkest and scariest nights.

But now the sun was shining and someone needed your help! The mysteries of the Habitat’s trash and your nightmare about being locked in a dark scary room where no one could hear you call for help could wait.

You followed Mirphy to the Terrace. Lulia was sunbathing, her confidence boosted thanks to the good fortune she received from the fortune telling Carla. She gave you a wave, but didn’t make conversation with you. Either Mirphy ordering you do a “natural pose” was enough to convey that you were busy, or she didn’t want to get involved.

“No, no!” Mirphy cried and shook her head in distaste after fifteen different poses. She then started muttering to herself. “It’s too forced. Too stiff! Crikey, it’s like I’m back taking school pictures of little brats!”

She then realized you had heard her say that and she purse her lips into a thin line.

“No offense.”

Mirphy then huffed. And frowned at you for a long time. You wished you could help, but Dallas Smuth, the painter, had once told you that you couldn’t rush art. So you waited patiently while Mirphy muttered all the different poses and compositions and locations she could take your picture. You hoped you wouldn’t have to actually go into the acid pond in the boiler room and do a handstand…

You started to swing your arms back and forth and you hung your head back to look at the sky. It was a nice day. Some nice, fluffy clouds lazily floating by. Oh, that one looked like a bunny…

Click!

You jumped at the sound of the camera and scrambled back as you realized that Mirphy was lying on the ground at your feet, pointing her camera up at you while you had stared at the cloud. She gave you a big smile, showing off the small gap in her front teeth proudly.

“Perfect!” she declared loudly. “One spot of white in a sea of blue. It’s so simple and breathtaking. It’ll go great with my portfolio!”

So…she didn’t take a picture of you at all? Just the cloud? Then, why was she lying on the ground like that? She could have just pointed the camera up at the sky from where she was and taken the picture.

Oh, well. At least Mirphy was happy with it. She had been having trouble making art with her pictures.

But her happiness didn’t last. Mirphy set the camera down on her thin stomach and glared up at the cloud critically.

“No…I’ve already done a cloud piece awhile ago,” she murmured to herself. “And that didn’t go over well. It’s a good piece, but I got to have something new for my portfolio! But what? Arrrgh!”

She suddenly growled in frustration. You decided to look at the cloud again. It was such a cute cloud. You should show it to Gillis. The big, soft puppy dog, as Putunia put it, would pretend not to like it, but you’ve seen him go cloud-watching with Putunia. You started to move toward the stairs.

“Oi, where are you going?” Mirphy called out to you. “I still have to take your picture!”

You quickly returned, realizing the cloud picture was only a distraction for Mirphy’s true goal. She wanted to take a picture of you. No, she _had_ to. But why?

Mirphy sat cross-legged, her head at the same level as yours even sitting down. With a dull, bored expression that resembled Trencil more than it did the spunky, energetic Mirphy, she raised the camera up and pointed it at your face.

“Smile,” she said in such a dead voice that made you never want to smile again.

You shook your head. Even when taking pictures she was ultimately unsatisfied with, Mirphy treated every shot seriously and passionately. Now, she was acting like she didn’t care and that she even hated taking your picture. Not to mention, you had always been against forcing yourself to smile for a picture. Your parent, the Florist, always got frustrated whenever they wanted to take a family picture and you wouldn’t smile.

Now, Mirphy was the one getting frustrated. “Oh, I see. You’re one of _those_ kids that want to make my job harder and make parents yell at me because their precious Clarke or whatever didn’t smile or they had their eyes closed. Well, fine! I decided I wasn’t going to deal with that anymore when I went independent and I won’t! Why, if Habit wants a picture of you, he’s going to have to get it himself! I don’t care how much he’s paying; I won’t lower myself and betray my principles for money!”

Someone started clapping. You turned your head and were surprised to see Tim Tam applauding Mirphy’s speech. When did they get here?

“revolution. fight the power,” Tim Tam told Mirphy. “down with capitalism. express yourself. who cares if you can’t pay your bills?”

“Yeah! Wait,” Mirphy’s excitement turned into a frown.

“who cares about money?” Tim Tam continued. They certainly were talkative today. “take pictures. live on the streets. steal stuff. freeze. starve. move back in with your parents. do it.”

Mirphy stared at Tim Tam for the longest time. Then, she sighed and knelt down to get eye-level with you. She took a picture, the flash blinding you, and she went downstairs without another word.

“sellout,” Tim Tam said after Mirphy had left. They turned to you. “patsy. spit contest.”

Apparently that meant spitting over the side of the building seeing whose spit hit the ground or a person first. You did it by where Kamal was sitting, actively “sulking” by himself. You’d give him a toofbrush but the only one you had was yours and the Florist told you never to let anyone else use it when you came to the Habitat. They had always said that it was important to share, but for some reason toofbrushes weren’t allowed to be shared.

So Kamal remained sad that his teeth weren’t brushed while the rest of the Habiticians were indifferent. You wondered why Doctor Habit didn’t care that people didn’t brush their teeth, but he probably had other things to worry about with managing the big machine, Martha, and preparing for the Big Event, whatever that meant. Or maybe he knew that new toofbrushes would make some people happy, like Kamal, so he didn’t get new ones on purpose.

You didn’t know. And it wasn’t like you could ask him…

“Hey, don’t get so close to the edge!” Kamal warned the two of you.

Tim Tam turned their blank stare toward Kamal. He flinched and retreated back down to the bench and hugged his legs to his chest. Guess he went back to sulking. Doctor Habit really must’ve hurt his confidence bad…

Wait. Didn’t Mirphy say that the Doctor wanted a picture of you? Why? And did that mean he talked to Mirphy recently? Could you find a way to talk to him, too?

Oh, there was the cloud again, right next to Doctor Habit’s tower. Now it looked like a hamster…

“Wh-whatever!” Gillis scoffed, turning away from the bunny cloud (it changed back) that you pointed to. “I don’t care about some dumb clouds! Only _babies_ like clouds that look like cute animals! So what if it’s fluffy and white and cute and looks like a cute, widdle bunny…”

Gillis trailed off as he stared at the cloud, his grumpy expression softening. He was mesmerized and content watching the cloud drift by. You knew what would make him really happy would be a bear from the carnival game, but you weren’t very good at it and you didn’t feel right just taking it like Tim Tam suggested. You wanted to earn it. But seeing Gillis appreciate the cute cloud you found seemed to be a good start to cheering him up.

You heard the sound of branches creaking. You looked over by the only tree in the carnival area and saw Dallas sitting underneath it. He had a canvas and his paintbrush. He had a calm, serious expression as he moved the brush across the canvas. Every now and then, he’d stare up at the sky and the hamster cloud (it kept changing) for a long time. You walked over to him and peeked over his shoulder at the painting. A bunny/hamster cloud hybrid took up most of painting, but at the very bottom was a huge green figure next to a smaller one in a blue jacket, staring up at the cloud.

“Oh, hey, Flower Chiiiild,” Dallas drawled with a goofy smile when he noticed you. But it seemed weak. “Just doing a little painting to get my mind off things. You know how I did some thinking after you told me Mirphy wasn’t into me?”

You nodded. You had checked up on him after that several times, but he had always said the same thing: “I think of myself like a protagonist sometimes. I don’t suppose that’s very healthy, dude. I’ve got a lot to think on…”

Exactly those words. Every time. For days. You thought his mind had been broken and were very close to punching some sense into him with your glove. But then he gave you some paintings that he thought no one would like. You were able to prove Dallas wrong and boosted his confidence. He started painting more and more for his own sake rather than for Mirphy’s approval. He even let you have one of his palettes so you could paint. But you had Parsley eat it instead.

“Well, I did some more thinking again and I think I did toooo much thinking, you know?” Dallas dipped his brush into the blue paint. “My folks warned me about thiiinking too much. Now, I’m totally bummed out…”

You felt a painful stab in your chest. It was your fault Dallas was sad. You hurt his feelings. You weren’t going to lie to him about Mirphy not liking him, but you could have been nicer telling him. If only you could talk to him…

Maybe it wasn’t too late? Maybe you could open your mouth and tell Dallas-

No. No. No no no no no no no no no no no no no no. No. No…

Your stomach hurt and your heart was beating really fast at the thought of talking. You tried to breath like your therapist taught you and you slowly started to calm down.

“Flower Child, you were aaaabsolutely right,” Dallas was saying, oblivious to your panic. “I thought because I liked her that I was entitled to her. And that’s not riiiiiight. I was deceiving myself. I’m just not the guy for her and I got to, like, move on…”

Dallas sighed. You sat down next to him, hoping your company would be enough. It was all you had to give. The troubled painter looked at you with simple gratitude. He gently propped the cloud painting up against the tree, making sure the sun was hitting it.

“I don’t even know what this iiiiis,” Dallas chuckled to himself, looking at the painting. “Haven’t done a still life in like foreeeeever. But…guess it’s not really still life when the cloud is moving and people are in it. So is it…moving life?”

You shook your head. You didn’t know much about art, but that didn’t seem right to you.

“R-reallyyyy?” Dallas blinked in astonishment. “Oh…thought for sure that was it…Whatever. Doesn’t matter, anyway…”

Oh, no! He thought because you didn’t agree with what kind of painting it was called that you didn’t like it. And that wasn’t true! That cloud was really cute and he did a great job capturing its cuteness as well as Gillis’s mighty, but gentle presence. You were also in it and you were a little biased, but at the time you hadn’t realized you were.

You ran off to Gillis, who was looking in your direction, curious why you had left his side looking at the cloud. You stood in front of him for a second until he spoke first.

“What?” he frowned down at you. “What do you want? You want to play some dumb baby games with me? I’m too macho and tough to play with toddlers!”

You ignored his aggressive statements and shook your head. You didn’t want to play with him.

“You…don’t?” Gillis said, trying not to sound disappointed. “So, what, do you need my help?”

You nodded and walked back toward the tree before Gillis could declare that he had better things to do than to help with your simple, easy problems or whatever. You heard Gillis follow you to the tree where Dallas was blinking at the two of you incomprehensively. You pointed to the painting so Gillis would see it.

“Oh…” Gillis’s face softened and broke out into a tiny smile. “It’s us and the cloud. Dallas, it’s so cute and sweet – uh, I mean, whatever!!! I don’t care about some dumb painting! I’m strong and play sports and lift weights and like monster trucks and football and…stuff.”

“So…you don’t like it…?” Dallas asked, confused and a little sad.

Gillis’s face fell in horror. “Oh, no, no! That’s not what I meant! I like it, really!”

“S’cool, dude,” Dallas shook his head. “You don’t have to like it. I was just messing around with this. I’ll just toss it in the tire fiiiiire for, I dunnooo, fuueeel…”

“But I do like it!” Gillis cried frantically, finally honest about his feelings. “Having to smile all the time as the bouncer is draining, but hanging out at the carnival with friends, watching cute little clouds go by actually makes me smile. It’s a nice memory and I’m glad it’s captured forever…”

You and Dallas stared in shock. You knew Gillis had his soft spot and was actually sweet, but that was the sweetest thing you maybe had ever heard during your stay at the Habitat.

And…Gillis called you his friend…

“O-or something!” Gillis went back to being grumpy and “full of frownies” as a certain green menace would say. “I don’t know! Whatever! It’s nice! It’s not a big deal!”

“Sooo…” Dallas scratched his head in confusion. “Do you want it when it dries…?”

“Maybe, I don’t know, sure, if Flower Kid doesn't want it!” Gillis grumbled. Then, quietly, “Please.”

You nodded your head to let him know he could have the painting. It made Gillis happy. You were happy enough sharing a moment with your fellow Habitician and inspiring another to make a painting about it. Your memories with your new friends would be enough.

“Huh. Didn’t think he’d like it…” Dallas hummed to himself as Gillis shuffled off to return to his shift at the Lounge. Even though Doctor Habit would see Gillis at his post smiling all the time, Gillis still worked when he was supposed to because then Tim Tam would steal all the drinks and food in the Lounge.

Suddenly, your vision became blurry and dark and everything started moving strangely. Was it night already? How long had you been staring at that cloud?

“Later, Flower Chiiild!” you heard Dallas call after you. “And thanks!”

Your heart would have soared if you weren’t so focused on returning to your room. You had gotten in enough trouble with staying up late.

You flew up the stairs into the apartments and managed to get into your room before you collapsed with exhaustion or the Carlas got you.

“C’mon, baby, you’re too tired,” your bed drawled in its deep, soothing voice. “Climb on in.”

You flopped down on the pillow, not even bothering with the horse blanket. You were asleep in seconds with your cowboy bed murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.

Even though there were no scary bedtime stories from Doctor Habit, you had a nightmare. Well, it wasn’t scary like all the other nightmares, but it wasn’t very pleasant. You dreamed that something was in your room with you, a big shadow looming over you while you slept on the bed. It made a loud click and the room lit up in a blinding white light. You jolted awake, but you found that you were alone, the only light from the moon coming through both your windows.

At 8:30am, you jumped out of bed and ran out of the room to ignore the daily PSA from the Doctor. You usually listened to every one, but you weren’t in the mood. You were uneasy from your dream and you felt Doctor Habit’s eyes on you more than usual.

You waved goodbye to your bed, waved hello to Nat, and were blinded by a bright flash. You blinked rapidly and rubbed your eyes while Nat snarled and yelled at Mirphy.

“Ah, jeez! Forget the sun, that flash is going to be the one that takes me out!” Nat groaned, blinking as badly as you were. “What the heck’s the deal, dude?”

Mirphy huffed, angrier than you had ever seen her. “Apparently ‘a picture of the Flower Kid having fun’ doesn’t mean what you would think it means!”

“What?” Nat squinted at her, irritation plainly rising. “What are you talking about?”

“Apparently ‘a picture of Flower Kid having fun’!” Mirphy was shouting now, taking another picture of you. “Really means, ‘a picture of Flower Kid smiling and talking with people that are having fun at the Habitat’! Of course it’s _my_ fault that I forgot to incorporate instructions _that weren’t given to me in the first place!_ So you know what? That lark wants disgusting, unnatural, boring pictures? I’ll _give_ him boring pictures! He can keep his dirty money, I’ll give him a whole film’s worth for free!”

“Uh, okay, that sucks that you were insulted or whatever? But can you _chill_ for five seconds? You’re freakin’ us out.” Nat stood her ground against the ranting photographer as you shrank and started to back away slowly. Mirphy was terrifying when she was mad and you were positive it was your fault.

Mirphy lowered her camera took several deep breaths. Did she have a therapist, too?

“Okay. Okay, sorry,” Mirphy breathed out. She still seemed angry. “Crikey, I lost my mind there. Just that smug smile and passive aggressive entitlement just set me off. I mean, I’m doing _him_ a favor! You’ve ever been so mad that you wanted to smash everything in sight?”

You nodded. Nat shrugged.

“I’m 13,” she said as a way of explanation.

“Right,” Mirphy nodded, her face drawn in a scary frown. “Had enough of that from critics, now I got it in here…”

“Uh, heyyyy,” Dallas poked his head out of his room. “You ladies and flower chiiiild alllright…?”

“Yeah. Fine. Dallas.” Mirphy answered curtly. She was indifferent to Dallas at best and now was not best.

“Doesn’t…seem that way,” Dallas muttered to himself, but he was loud enough that everyone heard.

“Yeah? What’s it seem, then?” Mirphy snapped. “What insight do YOU have about MY problems? Or do you think that you can solve them for me if I give an eavesdropping creep like you the time of day and repay you with a date or something?”

Dallas blinked in surprise at Mirphy’s anger. He looked away guiltily.

“No, that’s not…I wasn’t…I…I’m sorry, Mirphy,” he finished meekly. “I was a real entitled jjjjerk to you and I’m sorry. You don’t deserve thaaat. I’ll leave you alone, I promise. But…if you ever need to talk about art stuff, just say so. I know what it’s like when someone treats your art like garbage…”

Mirphy’s eyes darted to the side and now she looked a bit guilty. “Look, Dallas, I may have been a bit harsh about that cloud painting last night…”

Last night? Cloud painting? Did something happen last night? Did Mirphy not like the cloud painting? But Mirphy took a picture of the same cloud and seemed to like it. Why didn’t she like it?

“No worries, dude,” Dallas waved a hand. He turned and started heading back into his room.

You looked up at Mirphy. She didn’t look happy at all, and she seemed conflicted. You pointedly looked from her to Dallas.

“You’re saying I should talk to him?” Mirphy sighed. You nodded. “Ugh! You’re right. Oi, Dallas! You have a minute?”

“Uh, yeah!” Dallas turned his head back and nodded eagerly. “‘Course!”

“Hmph. Don’t get any ideas,” Mirphy sternly warned before walking with Dallas to the stairway for privacy.

“C’mon, let’s eavesdrop,” Nat whispered to you.

You nodded. You both got close, but not too close to hear Mirphy and Dallas, just like how you figured out what Mirphy liked in a composition for Dallas.

“…angry at something else,” Mirphy was admitting. “I…augh, I was a bit jealous how everyone was liking your paintings while I was struggling with my art block, so I took it out on you and maybe you didn’t deserve that even though I still think you’re a creep.”

“So you _did_ like the painting?” Dallas asked hopefully.

“Ugh, that’s not the point!” Mirphy cried. “Why do you even care what I think? I thought you said you were over trying to impress me?”

“No, nooo,” Dallas groaned. “I just…people haven’t liked my art in awhiiiiile…”

“Do _you_ like your art, Dallas?” Mirphy asked quietly.

“I…” Dallas struggled to reply. “Never thought about it before…But if I wanna make a living doing this, shouldn’t people like itttt?”

Mirphy sighed. “Look, it’s not like you’re a _bad_ artist. Your stuff just isn’t my style. At all.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Dallas smiled ruefully. “I get it…”

“Oi, I get it, too,” Mirphy said. “I get wanting to make what you want and not being able to because you need money to live. I get feeling bad because people don’t love what you make as much as you do. That’s why you have to remember that _you_ liking your art is enough to keep at it. But sometimes you have to make compromises so you can eat and not move back in with your parents…

Dallas grimaced. “Eww, don’t even say that. That’s, like, my worst nightmare…”

Mirphy actually laughed loudly. “Right? Give me starving and snotty critics any day…”

“Yeah,” Dallas nodded. “Gotta suffer for our art, riiiight?”

“Yeah,” Mirphy nodded. “Exactly…”

There was a pause and you weren’t sure if it was uncomfortable or not.

“Hey, uh,” Dallas spoke. “I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I just happened to be at the Lounge by the window when you and the Habit dude were going at it, and, like, I saw the picture you gave him of the Flower Child and the cloud…”

Oh. So you _were_ in Mirphy’s cloud picture.

“Yeah? What about it?”

“I liked it,” Dallas mumbled. “I mean, photography isn’t _my_ thing, 'cause it's basically cheeating, but I thought it was a sweet pic and Habit didn’t know what he was taaaalking about. Flower Child looooves staring at the clouds. Did it for hours yesterday. Had to have been at least a _little_ fun for them.”

“…Thanks, Dallas,” Mirphy said sincerely touched. “Your painting was...decent.”

“Heh heh, thanksssss…I think.”

“Well, that worked out,” Nat remarked as the two of you went to your room to pretend you hadn’t been eavesdropping. “Hey, show me this flower you got on the window sill. I’ve never seen anything like that…”

While Nat commented on your flower, you heard Mirphy and Dallas make a little small talk. It was awkward and stilted, but it was a start. Maybe this time around, they could be friends? Friends that were there for each other good times and bad.

That would be very nice.

Wait, but why did the Doctor want your picture? Was Mirphy the dark, clicking shadow in your room last night, taking a picture? That didn't seem like Mirphy, even if she was eager and enthusiastic about picture taking. So who did it? And why?

You really needed to see Doctor Habit. Before things got out of hand...

"Whoa," Nat looked out the window that looked out onto the carnival. "Is that Tim Tam and Millie wrestling on the ground?"

Again? Guess you should take care of that before Tim Tam tries to bite off Millie's kneecaps...

**You look so pieceful when u sleep.**

**Relaxed 'n unaware of everythings around yew.**

**Guess ur always sleepingg. Can't smiley-smile during a nappy, can u?**

**What will make u wakey-wakey egggs 'n bakey and smile? : - )**

**...**

**Why won't you smile for the camera, child?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to all the struggling artists out there. Never give upon your dreams, but don't starve like Tim Tam wants you to ;-)


	3. Communication À La Carte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are a lot easier when you're honest and say what you're really feeling. But getting the courage to say those things can be the hardest thing in the world...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Okay! You guys...really like this fic, wow, I did not expect this much love, support and interest for this. There's even fanart inspired by this fic! What the heck?!
> 
> Just...thank you guys so much, it's so touching and rewarding to see such a positive response. So sorry this chapter took so long to post, i actually hurt the nerves of my arms awhile ago but I'm healed now and ready for writing again. Further updates will still be slow, but hopefully not as slow, tho.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the ramble! Enjoy this chapter. I hope it makes you smile : - )

**Salutations, my Habby Habby-ticians!**

**2-days’ fourcast is sunny with a dash of clouds.**

**The Big Event is coming soon! So hold on to all your frownies until it’s time to let them all go!**

**Don’t listen to certain little nosy nose-nosers that don’t nose when to mind their own bus-nose and try to ruin everyting for every 1!**

**U nose who I mean!!!!**

**I nose…**

Your teeth were loose in your mouth. Every time you poked them with your tongue, they’d wiggle and make your gums bleed. Not a lot, but enough to leave a metallic taste in your mouth even after rinsing your mouth gently with water.

You tried not to wiggle them. The more you bothered them, the looser they got. You had lost a few teeth in the past by playing with them, sometimes leaving tiny stumpy teeth behind that barely poked through your gums. You didn’t like how they looked and didn’t want any more of those incomplete teeth in your mouth. The kids at school made fun of you for how your teeth looked and you didn’t want anyone at the Habitat to make fun of you either. Especially Doctor Habit, someone who had been known to make fun of other people’s teeth, poor Kamal. The Doctor was angry enough at you in his PSAs; he didn’t need more reasons to not like you.

So you didn’t open your mouth and you didn’t smile with your mouth open. You never smiled at all anyway, so it wasn’t hard, but you made a conscious effort to not open your mouth much. You also tried to avoid hard foods to protect the full teeth that you had.

“C’mon, kid!” Jimothan sighed exasperatedly. “I went through a lotta trouble to make my special, ‘French Toast’! You gotta eat some of it!”

“Aw, Dad, don’t nag them,” Parsley whined from down the counter, hunched over some papers he was working on. “You know this stuff tastes like warm moustache…w-warm trash, I mean…”

“Hey, maybe it does taste like warm moustache, but that didn’t stop ya from eatin’ yours in one bite!” Jimothan said defensively. “How do ya explain _that,_ Parsely?”

“Parsey loooooooves warm moustache, if you know what I mean! ;-)” Jerafina giggled with her head in her arms and her glass empty on the table she was at. She was a weird person and you were positive the only reason she hadn’t left the Habitat yet was because of Jimothan’s smelly drinks. She also couldn’t find her glasses. You were on the lookout for them, but you haven’t found them yet.

“Uhh…no, I don’t actually,” Jimothan frowned. “What’s she mean?”

“D-don’t listen to her Dad, you know how she is after ten drinks,” Parsely sighed as he shook his head. “Go drunk Jerry, you’re home. Wait…”

You looked down at the meal in front of you. The Habitat had run out of food again because of rats or Tim Tam, so Jimothan had to improvise. You had helped gather the ingredients: bread that was literally cardboard, yellow paint for the egg batter, dirt for cinnamon, and a tiny flag of France stapled to it to make the dish “French”.

Questionette had given you the flag. She had a lot of those, for some reason. Even though it took awhile to understand her with your Quik Translate, she was very nice and sweet. She didn’t have any friends at the Habitat or in town because of her bad English. You knew how lonely and sad it was to sit by yourself, unable to talk to people that were having fun without you. So until Questionette improved her English (a wish she had confessed to you), you let other people borrow the Quik Translate so they could be friends with her.

Questionette, who was eating French Toast next you, said suddenly:

“A Gosh! That bug.

Scorns bread nows-go

she tablet.”

Jimothan, who had the Quik Translate to understand Questionette’s orders to the bar, held it up to the French woman’s words, squinting at the tiny words. You got on your knees on your seat and leaned forward to see what the piece of plastic deciphered. Even so, Jimothan slowly read it aloud. What Questionette actually said was:

“ **My** Gosh! That **one**

 **bu** rns bread **under**

 **t** he tabl **e!** ”

“What? Aw, dang it, Tim Tam! Put that down!” Jimothan yelled at the strange child. They were sitting underneath one of the lounge’s tables, watching a piece of “bread” turn to ash by a lighter that they probably stole from Ronbo.

Tim Tam’s head snapped up at being spotted and they bolted, leaving behind the smoldering lump on the floor. Jimothan, grumbling about “weirdo kids” and “ain’t getting paid enough for this”, ran to the small fire with a small fire extinguisher.

“Uh, are there not fire alarms in here?” Tiff asked with a tiny frown from her corner.

“What the heck do you think, Tiff?” Jimothan shook his head, eyes on the fire slowly going out.

The corner of Tiff’s mouth lifted just a bit. “Right. If there are, then they’re probably made out of sequins, glitter, and glue…”

“Jesus Christ, we’re all going to die in a fire,” Parsley bemoaned.

“Don’t be such a downer, Parsley!” Jimothan scolded his son. He tossed the extinguisher behind the bar with a deafening clatter and pulled out a mop. “I don’t need no fancy doohickey to tell me there’s a fire! I got eyes! Don’t I?”

You nodded, looking right into Jimothan’s eyes. They were really red. So were his teeth. But they weren’t bloody. _Your_ teeth were bloody. Jimothan just had red teeth and eyes that glowed in the dark for some unknown reason. Like the monsters in your bad dreams. But Jimothan wasn’t a monster. He was gruff sometimes, but nice.

You had strange thoughts when you were hungry…

“It’s the _law_ to have fire alarms, Dad,” Parsley pointed out, his eyes closed in slight irritation. Actually, they were always closed, except when he had a lot of Jimothan’s drinks.

“Yeah, I guess,” Jimothan begrudgingly agreed. “‘But if you ask me, too many places nowadays are too obsessed about ‘regulation’ and ‘safety’! ‘Sides, if you rely too much on other things to keep you safe, then your own senses and intuition will grow dull and you’ll get soft!”

“Dad, Bim Bam – I mean, Tim Tam was literally just playing with fire right in front of you!” Parsley argued, growing more and more exasperated.

“I-I was distracted!” Jimothan defended himself. “Was too busy trying to get little frou frou flowery delivery kid to eat! But Q spotted ‘em! Thanks Q, you’re a peach.”

“:)” Questionette smiled at him.

“Ugh, fine, whatever,” Parsley sighed. “Not my problem when this place gets sued…Except it _will_ be because there’s only like 5 lawyers in this town! And one of them is me! Got damn it!”

“Eh, lighten up,” Jimothan slapped his son on the back and Parsley tensed, not liking that at all. “This whole thing’s supposed to be your vacation, right? Why dontcha try actin’ like it?”

“I’ll die – _try,”_ Parsley corrected himself, going back to his papers. Jimothan frowned a bit, making you very worried.

Parsley took some time off work to get away from his parents. But then Jimothan got a job at the Habitat to keep an eye on the high-strung Parsley. But neither of them knew that. Their relationship got better when you helped them connect over food, but it seemed they still had a long way to go.

Well, however much they had left to work out, you’d be sure to help them get rid of their frownies before the Big Event! You didn’t know when it was, but after today’s PSA and the whole picture thing a few days before, you were really starting to worry about your time limit. And the Doctor, too…

Wait…the papers from Carla, Tim Tam. You hadn’t had the chance to read them. You should do it before bed. Maybe they could help somehow?

“So you ain’t gonna eat, huh?” Jimothan sighed at you, looking discouraged and sad. Your stomach churned at making him sad. You decided if your teeth did get lost eating the hard French Toast, it would be worth it if it made Jimothan happy.

“Are you alright?” Tiff asked worriedly when you winced with pain, a concerned frown on her face. No! Not her too!

You nodded violently. You had to be careful. Tiff was already sad about her contract. And Jimothan, Parsley, and Questionette just started feeling better. You couldn’t let your frownies make their smilies go away.

Oh no, now you were sounding like Doctor Habit…

You managed to gingerly eat your dinner. It hurt a little, but your teeth were safe. For now. You wished you were home. Then you could tell the Florist that your mouth hurt and to make something soft for you to eat. But it was good that you weren’t home to bother them with your problems. They were probably happy to not see your unsmiling face and hear you whine and complain about stupid things…

You left the Lounge after finishing your food. Usually you helped clean the dishes, but you felt like you were about to cry, so you went into your room.

“Get inside me?” your cowboy bed offered. You shook your head, wiping your damp eyes with a sleeve. You had to read the papers first. Maybe they’ll help you figure out how to get to Doctor Habit or maybe even make you feel better.

They didn’t make you feel better. They were the sad diary pages of poor Boris H., whoever he was. He loved flowers like you did, caring for his lily so much by giving him kissies. But his parents didn’t like flowers for some reason. Who didn’t like flowers? Were they allergic? But even so, to destroy his flower like that when it was supposed to be a gift was too mean! Obviously Boris H. didn’t know about their aversion to flowers; why punish him so severely?

Angry tears fell down your face. You hated it when people were cruel and mean. Boris was just trying to make his parents happy and he was treated like that…

The second paper in the diary order was of Boris H. when he was 17. He complained about his parents never smiling and telling him to be a doctor. And he was made fun of in school for missing teeth.

You put your hand over your mouth sadly. Did Boris H. suffer from loose teeth like you? And he was a teenager, so either you got it early or this was a problem you were just going to have to deal with forever. Like what your therapist said about “depression” and “anxiety”.

You sighed. Poor Boris H. You wished you knew who he was so you could cheer him up and be friends. He couldn’t be happy with awful parents and mean classmates like the ones he had. But the dates on the pages were old. Boris H. was probably an adult or far, far away. You hoped he was happy. Even after having his lily destroyed, he still cared for flowers to give them “drinkies”. You assumed that was water. Boris H. wrote sort of funny.

While you gave your own flower “drinkies”, it struck you how much Boris H.’s wish for his parents to leave him alone was like Parsley’s wish. You wish you knew how to help them both. And you were still no closer to reaching the Doctor. And this purple-lipped flower still won’t bloom!

Feeling mad, you put on your punchin’ glove and punched your pillow. You imagined the pillow was Boris H.’s parents. How dare they mess with flowers and hurt their son’s smile?!

“Heeehawww!” your bed cheered calmly. “Show ‘em who’s boss, pardner.”

You gave one last hit of your pillow before flopping down on the bed. Your exertions and the thin mountain air had made you dizzy and tired. You always got dizzy and tired at night. But you were always fine when you woke up the next morning.

Yeah. Everything would be fine in the morning…

“Jesus Christ, my dad’s driving me up the wall!” Parsley declared as you walked into the Lounge. “I can’t go two seconds without him asking if I want to throw girls or talk about balls! …Forget everything I just said. God, it’s like I’m in high school again.”

“Heey. Hey, Parsssssey,” Jerafina slurred from her usual table. “So, like, when are you gonna tell him…?”

“Tell him what?” Parsley sighed. “That I don’t like sports? Already did that, but he never listens-”

“You’re mixing it again!” Jerafina started giggling loudly. Parsley abruptly stopped and tensed.

“Not in a million years, Jerry.”

“C’mon, Parsey, eeeeeverybody knows,” Jerafina leaned forward in her seat with a goofy smile, almost falling forward off her seat. “I know, Tiff knows. A certain mailman whose name starts with an M _de_ finitely knows… ;-)”

“H-huh?!” Parsley turned beet red. “What? No! Cease and desist! I’ll sue you for slander!”

“But he has to be the only one who doesn’t know!” Jerafina whined. “Like, just tell him, he won’t care. He knows about meee and he _loves_ me, right? Everyone loves me, teehee~!”

“Yep. Never telling,” Parsley nodded to himself, comforted by his decision.

“Don’t push him, Jerafina,” Tiff said gently. She turned to him. “But I do think there are some things that you two need to talk about…”

“Have you ever talked to my dad?” Parsley groaned. “He’d never understand anything I’d have to say.”

“You never know unless you try,” Tiff said firmly. “Nothing will ever change if you don’t communicate.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Parsley mumbled. “Still gonna keep that one thing to myself.”

“Awww…” Jerafina whined sadly. Tiff nodded in understanding.

You tilted your head to the side, confused. What did Parsley not want his dad to know? What did Martin the mailman (he was the only mailman whose name started with an M) know about Parsley? Shouldn’t Parsley be honest with his dad and share the secret with him so that they could become closer and happier?

But Boris H. tried that when he showed his parents his special flower. It didn’t go well. Was Parsley afraid that Jimothan will act like Boris H.’s parents did?

You slid off your seat while Parsley and Jerafina continued their conversation. They didn’t notice you leave since Parsley was too sad and Jerafina was too blind. You had to find Jimothan and make it very clear that if he was going to act like Boris H.’s parents toward Parsley, then you were going to take your punching glove and Tim Tam/Ronbo’s lighter and-

“Alright, now put your pinkie finger between the fourth and fifth laces,” Jimothan was saying to Gillis, who was listening with rapt attention. “And your thumb goes around the ball.”

“Got it, Mr. Botch!” Gillis looked down at the football in his large hand and carefully put his pinkie over the fourth and fifth laces like he was told. His tongue was sticking out in pure concentration. “Uh, thanks for teaching me, by the way.”

“Eh, it’s no problem,” Jimothan shrugged nonchalantly. “Surprised a big guy like you never played before.”

“Yeah, my family’s more into wrestling,” Gillis said while focusing on making sure his fingers were in the right place. “And I gotta work after school, so I don’t have the time for sports. It’s totally not because I’m afraid of getting hit with the ball or being tackled by huge dudes. I’m the strongest guy at my school – no, the world! I could _totally_ take down anyone on the football team!”

Jimothan stared at the large boy, looking like he didn’t believe Gillis assertions. “Really.”

“Yeah! D-don’t tell them I said that. I, uh, wouldn’t want to mess up our town’s team right before the big game! That, uh, wouldn’t be right! For people that love football! Like me! Totally not scary!”

You put your glove away and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. You were so angry that you forgot what kind of person Jimothan was. He may hurt Parsley’s feelings sometimes and stress him out, but he wouldn’t…he loved Parsley, he would never…

“Are you alright, child?” a familiar deep voice inquired from the shadows. You nodded at Trencil. You were okay. You just overacted and now your chest hurt a little. You shyly stood next to Trencil in the shadows while Jimothan patiently taught Gillis how to throw a football.

“Now stand like this, feet apart…not that apart, Gillis. Shoulder width. Yeah, that’s it! Now raise the ball to neck level with the laces away from your body. Now, when you throw it, make sure to bend your knees slightly. Parsley always locked his knees and passed out a couple times whenever we played ball, poor kid.”

“P-passed out?!” Gillis cried with alarm.

“Relax! Parsley didn’t get hurt or nothin’. Much. Okay, we had to go to the hospital a couple of times, kid’s got two left feet, I swear.”

“Uh, Mr. Botch, I just remembered I’m late to a thing-”

“C’mon, you said you wanted to make friends and a great way to make friends is to join a sport! Look, we’ll go as slow as ya want, okay? Just at least give it a shot.”

“O-okay. Okay, this will be no problem! I’m tough! No way I’m scared of a little ball!”

“Heh, yeah, that’s the spirit. Ready to throw the ball?”

“Yeah! J-just gimme a second…”

“Gillis is a very kind young man,” Trencil suddenly spoke in his deep monotone very quietly so that only you could hear. “Mr. Botch was looking particularly down after his son refused to play catch with him or ‘toss the pigskin’ as garish as that sounds. Gillis noticed and offered to play with him instead and Mr. Botch was grateful to temporarily fill the hole that his son had created with Gillis. Of course, neither of them said as such out loud and passed it off as Mr. Botch doing Gillis a favor. Just another example why dealing with people is exhausting. I much prefer the simplistic wants of flowers. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You nodded your head. The vampire patted your shoulder gently and you suddenly wished your parent was with you so you could have a hug. You were suddenly really sad and you didn’t know why. Your therapist said that sometimes there didn’t need to be a specific reason for you to be sad and that was okay.

But it wasn’t okay. You didn’t want to be randomly sad. No one else was randomly sad; everyone had a reason why they were at the Habitat, except for you. It wasn’t fair…

“Normally, I wouldn’t care about the affairs of other people,” Trencil continued. “Yet, I can sympathize with Mr. Botch. It can be very hard when your child refuses to spend time with you…”

That’s right. Trencil had this problem with Nat before. Parenting seemed to be really hard. You were nothing but trouble for your own parent…

Great, now you were even sadder!

“Hey, kid, c’mere and take a look at what I found!” Jimothan beckoned you to him and Gillis. You left the safety of the shadows and walked to him. “Well, technically, Tim Tam found it and was tryin’ to eat it, but I swooped in just in the nick of time. I like ‘football calzone’ as much as the next guy, but I’d rather use it for its intended purpose.”

Jimothan then tried to teach you how to throw the ball, but you shook your head. You took the ball, walked to the other side of the Courtyard and threw a perfect spiral to Jimothan. Gillis and Jimothan gaped at you in shock.

“Wha-? How did-?” Jimothan sputtered.

“the florist plays football with them,” Tim Tam suddenly said. When did they get here? And how did they know you played football with the Florist? You didn’t really know Tim Tam very well until you came to the Habitat, yet they seemed to know a few things about you that they shouldn’t, come to think of it…

“Ah…right,” Jimothan cleared his throat, embarrassed for some reason. “Uh, Gillis, go long…”

“Huh?! Oh! Sure! Totally! I can do it! If a baby like Flower Kid can do it, so can a macho guy like me!”

Gillis was really bad at catching. And throwing. He was scared of the ball and made a lot of yelping sounds. But that was okay. He was learning. The whole time you played catch with Jimothan and Gillis, you felt Tim Tam literally breathing down your neck. You were used to this, so you didn’t mind. They went away eventually.

Night came quickly and the Carlas started to swarm around you. But you didn’t want to stop. You were finally starting to feel better.

Even so, you went off to bed. You really didn’t want to upset Doctor Habit anymore. You didn’t want him to tell your parent you were misbehaving and being bad. You didn’t want to bother your poor parent with your dumb problems anymore.

You didn’t sleep at all. You woke up in the afternoon, feeling worse than you did the day before. You didn’t know why. _Your_ parent didn’t destroy your flowers whenever you showed them in full bloom. Your parent didn’t make you play sports and “get with girls”. Your parent didn’t refuse to play with you and they didn’t change their last name and they didn’t stop saying they loved you for a year, even when you threw tantrums and said mean things to them and embarrassed them by not speaking in public…

“Hey, frou frou!” Jimothan greeted you with a smile and that made you feel a lot better. He had the football. “Wanna see if Parsley will stop bein’ a stick in the mud and join us?”

You nodded. Yesterday was really fun. You never had friends to play football with before. You had to bother your parent whenever you wanted to play. Even though Parsley didn’t like sports, maybe you could convince him to play just to have some fun with you and his dad? And technically, throwing the ball back and forth wasn’t actually football. So it should be fine.

“Now, don’t think me soft when I say this,” Jimothan said as you walked to Parsley, “but I’m really gettin’ worried about Parsley. Last night he was muttering in his sleep about deadlines and beets. Weird dreamer, that kid. Some time away from work will do him good. Yanno, me and Parsley used to play sports all the time when he was a kid. But then Parsley really, really wanted to go off to college. Now, I never personally saw the point in goin’ to fancy-pants college like that, but Parsley had his heart set on it, so I tried to help him out. He’s my boy. Gotta look out for him. Don’t tell him I said that…”

But that was a nice thing to say about his son, why wouldn’t you-?

“I told him to get into a sport for a scholarship. School’s expensive! But he didn’t listen and he nearly killed himself studyin’. I didn’t think he could get a scholarship that way and told him to play a sport, but he never listened. Got a scholarship to some fancy accounting school outta state. Real far away. Then, he went to law school. Didn’t think he could handle the pressure, honestly. He’s soft and stresses out easily. Didn’t really see him during that time, so I didn’t know how he was doing or getting by. Gotta say, I missed him…don’t tell anyone I said that either.”

Why not? What’s wrong with missing Parsley, especially when the person who missed him was his dad? Jimothan was so weird…

“That weirdo’s been bustin’ his butt for years!” Jimothan lightly tossed the ball in the air and caught it. “S’bout time for a break, yeah?”

You nodded. After a long day of school, your parent let you have a snack and play with your toys before going on your delivery route. You sometimes felt bad for playing while the Florist worked hard to support you, so you couldn’t relax because you felt so guilty doing nothing. Was that why Parsley worked so hard? Did he feel guilty doing nothing, too?

“Hey, Parsley!” Jimothan called out to him. The banker/lawyer/you-didn’t-know-his-third-job was by the tire fire like always. You saw Parsley jump and look up from a paper that was resting on his briefcase on his lap.

“Hi, Dad,” Parsley squinted at him through the bright sunlight. He looked like he didn’t get enough sleep. His face fell when he saw the football. “Oh, no…”

“Up and at ‘em Parsley!” Jimothan ordered cheerfully. “Time to stretch those legs!”

Parsley groaned, “Ah, Dad, I’m busy…”

“You want your legs to end up like mine?” Jimothan asked somberly. “My knees are all weird because I didn’t stretch every hour. You want convex knees?!”

Your eyes widened. Was that true?! Would your legs get weird if you didn’t stretch?!

“That’s not how that works, Dad!” Parsley protested. “You’re scaring the Flower Kid!”

“Flower Kid’s got nothin’ to worry about ‘cause they exercise!” Jimothan lightly patted your shoulder. “And they wanna play with ya, too, so c’mon.”

“Really?” Parsley cocked an eyebrow at you. You nodded. “Oh. Ah…hmm…oh, fine. Just a few minutes.”

Your heart soared and Jimothan seemed happy too. The three of you tossed the ball to each other for a little bit, but Parsley seemed…bored. No, unhappy. He wasn’t having any fun.

Ugh, now what? How could you make Jimothan and Parsley _both_ happy?

You thought and thought about it, absentmindedly wiggling one of your loose teeth with your tongue. You didn’t even realize you were doing it until the toof separated from your gums and rested on your tongue.

You froze with horror. You became very cold. You lost another toof. You knew you had loose teeth and you shouldn’t wiggle it, but you wiggled it anyway and now it was lost forever and now your smile was going to be all weird.

You…you…you were so _stupid!_

“Oh, jeez, kid, don’t cry.” Jimothan and Parsley were kneeling next to you, comforting you. “Parsley didn’t mean to throw the ball over the wall…right?”

“Of course not, it was an accident!” Parsley cried. “I’m sorry, container lid. Flower Kid. Ugh.”

The ball went over the wall? Oh, you didn’t notice. You were too sad about your lost toof. Now everyone’s going to make fun of you for your ugly smile.

You were brought into the Lounge, still crying. You secretly spit your toof out into your hand and made no attempt to let the true reason you were crying known. You felt awful when Tiff tried to cheer you up. She had her own problems; she shouldn’t be worried about you.

You were sufficiently glum and embarrassed by the time some chocolate milk was set in front of you. You hated crying in front of people. You wanted to apologize for making everyone worry and for bothering Parsley more than a couple of minutes. But every time you started to think about saying the words, you couldn’t make your mouth move at all. Man, you really were the worst…

“Don’t worry, little flower,” Tiff said gently. “Jimothan can get the ball at the end of the day and you can play tomorrow.”

“Yeah, buck up, kid,” Jimothan said. “Here, drink up. It’s actually chocolate milk, I promise. I just didn’t sprinkle dirt in it.”

“Oh thank God,” Parsley sighed and downed his own glass.

“Ah, you woulda drank it even if it was dirt, you weirdo,” Jimothan said with an affectionate smirk.

“Ha. Yeah,” Parsley gave a tiny smile. “It’s still garbage.”

“Hey. It’s _classy_ garbage. Show some respect.”

Parsley chuckled a little. He turned to you and said quietly so only you could hear. “Don’t worry, flower vendor. It’s not a game of catch with my dad without someone crying in the end.”

You blinked with surprise. How did Parsley know you felt bad about crying and not about the losing the ball?

“And by ‘someone’ he means himself,” Jimothan chimed in.

“There’s a reason I don’t like sports, Dad,” Parsley said, annoyed. Instead of arguing back like you thought he would, Jimothan sighed.

“Yeah, I know, I know…”

A gloomy atmosphere fell upon the Lounge. Jimothan didn’t look at Parsley while he furiously cleaned a glass that wasn’t dirty. Parsley looked like he wanted to say something, but he sadly stood up and left without a word. You knew how he felt. He thought he let his father down by not taking an interest in sports, but Jimothan just wanted to spend time with Parsley. But for some reason, they couldn’t say that to each other.

You wished you had a Quik Translate for these two. That’d make things so much easier…

“A dear your lane

teddy will fork

s-and these.”

You turned to Questionette who was talking to Jimothan. Luckily, the Quik Translate was on the counter and you were able to decipher what the young foreign woman was actually saying:

“ **My** dear your l **one**

 **bu** ddy will **under**

s **t** and the **e!** ”

“Hey, gimme the Translator, kid, I can’t understand her!” Jimothan whined. You handed the Quik Translate to him, but he still didn’t understand. Who was the “lone buddy” she was talking about?

You knew. Trencil. He was the only other dad in the Habitat. Trencil even said he knew what Jimothan was going through.

You hopped off the stool and ran out of the Lounge. Questionette was right; Jimothan needed someone that understood him to talk to and help him. Parsley, too! But you didn’t have the same problems with your parent that he was having. You weren’t Boris H. or…

“Hey, Flower Kid,” Nat smiled as you approached. You took her hand and led her to Parsley, who was by the tire fire.

“Oh. Hi…Nat, right?” Parsley greeted her awkwardly.

“Hey, dude,” Nat gave him a peace sign. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

The two of them looked at you expectantly. You tried to gesture for them to talk about their feelings, but they didn’t get it.

“Weirdo,” Nat shook her head at you. She turned to Parsley. “What’s up?”

“Oh nothing much,” Parsley said causally. “Dad’s being lame again…”

Nat let out a huff of laughter. “I feel that. What did he do?”

“Criticizing me, wanting me to play sports,” Parsley sighed sadly. “The usual.”

“Aw, sorry man, that sucks.”

Yes! They were talking! Now if only Parsley could talk this openly with his dad…

Wait.

“I wish he’d actually ask me what I’m into instead of assuming,” Parsley was saying as you dug into your bouquet. “I’d be happy to catch a bite with him or grab a fish with him. I mean…actually, that still works. But no. It’s all about sports or teaching me how to pick up chicks.”

“Gross,” Nat sneered. “I’d die if my dad did that…”

“Right?! But I missed him a lot when I was off to school, even though he drives me crazy,” Parsley confessed, his voice bouncing off the walls of the Habitat. “And I did have fun playing with him as a kid, and after I came home from the hospital, he’d always cook for me to cheer me up and gave me chocolate milk…”

“What the heck did you two play?” Nat muttered to herself.

“Ah, I wish he’d just leave me alone,” Parsley sighed, ignoring Nat. “But whenever he does, it really, really stinks. I missed him while I was at school. Mama, too. Just wish I felt like they were proud of me for making it as far as I did on my own instead of…not…”

It was at this point Parsley realized you were holding up your megaphone to broadcast what he was saying to the entire Habitat. Parsley’s eyes widened, showing his red, glowing eyes and he became pale and blushed at the same time.

You decided to run away, the promises of being unfortunately sued out of house and home chasing you as you ducked into the Lounge. You froze when you saw the saddest expression on Jimothan’s face while he wiped down the counter. Questionette and Tiff were at a far table, giving him space. You slowly approached him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I _am_ proud, Parsley,” Jimothan said to himself. “I didn’t mean to…I just…wanted to have somethin’ in common that wasn’t just my cookin’. Aw, Parsley, you may not be much, but you’re all I got. I – what did I tell you about shovin’ that scream-box in my face again?!”

You ran in fear as Jimothan snapped at you. You didn’t mean to have the megaphone on. You just forgot to put it away, you didn’t mean to upset Jimothan, you didn’t mean to make him or Parsley sad, you didn’t mean to, you didn’t mean to, you didn’t mean to, you didn’t mean to, you didn’t mean to!

You ran to your bed and pulled the blanket all the way over yourself so no one could see or hear you cry. Doctor Habit was right. You were nothing but a nosy little brat that ruined everything for everyone. You deserved to be sad. You deserved to have weird, stubby teeth. You were an awful, terrible person.

You put your toof underneath your pillow, but you doubted the toof fairy would want to be anywhere near you. But your bed appreciated the snack.

At least someone was happy…

“Since when did you like fishin’?” Jimothan asked, tossing the ball to Parsley.

“Friend was into fishing and dragged me along to one of his trips,” Parsley explained, catching the ball. He tossed it to you, but he threw it too far and you had to chase after it. “Sorry!”

“Never been fishin’,” Jimothan said, watching Gillis try to catch your throw. “Always seemed boring to me. Ayyy, you caught it! Good job, Gillis!”

“Thanks, Mr. Botch!” Gillis said, almost in tears, he was so happy. He took a long time to get in position to throw the ball exactly right.

“We should go sometime,” Parsley suggested brightly. “I got plenty of gear from Marv recently. He also told me about a great spot not too far from here.”

“Sure, I’ll give it a shot. _Oof!”_ Jimothan grunted as the ball Gillis threw collided against his stomach. “Just as long as we leave Mrs. Botch at home.”

“I’d never take Mama fishing,” Parsley said, shuddering slightly. “Remember when we went to the beach?”

“That poor shark never knew what hit ‘em!” Jimothan shivered. “And then she wanted to make sushi outta it after! Most terrified I’ve ever been! God, I love that woman so much…”

“I’m tellin’ Mama~!” Parsley sang teasingly, somehow sounding a lot like Jimothan.

“What?! No, you ain’t! I’ll ground you!”

“I’ll sue you!” Parsley shot back. “I’ll close your bank account!”

“I’ll never cook for you again!!!”

“…You win.”

Your heart smiled as the father and son talked and joked with each other. Eventually, it was only you and Gillis throwing the ball, Putunia in the middle trying to catch it so she could be rescued from the middle. Parsley and Jimothan were laughing and chatting in the background.

In your pocket, a quarter jangled inside as you moved. You found it under your pillow. The toof fairy left it for you because you weren’t as bad as you thought. Your megaphone let Jimothan and Parsley hear the words they were too afraid to say. It didn’t solve all their problems, but it was very heart-warming to see them try to understand each other. You hoped to see them like that more in the future.

You still had a lot of work to do to save all the Habiticians from the Big Event. But you had a feeling you didn’t have to worry about the Botches. They had each other to get them through anything. They always did.

“Flower Power!” Putunia cried triumphantly, holding the ball above her head. “You’re the Flower Monkey now!”

Aw, man, you hated being the monkey…

**The teef on the bus go ‘round and round.**

**Round and rounnd, ‘‘round and rownd.**

**The tea-th on the bus go round and round.**

**All thru the town.**

**…**

**I need more teeth, child.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so proud of Questionette's dialogue ngl. May not work in the actual game, but screw it lol


End file.
